


Not Today, But Soon

by King_Of_New_Orleans (dracogotgame)



Series: Always and Forever [1]
Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Brotherly Affection, Elijah-centric, Family, Gen, Human AU, I really went there, Implied Child Abuse, Klaus is the youngest, Kol does not exist, Mikael's A+ Parenting, Protective Elijah Mikaelson, So much Canon Divergence, Young Mikaelsons, i wrote this, no regrets, where do i even begin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 07:57:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18869011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracogotgame/pseuds/King_Of_New_Orleans
Summary: "It will be alright, brother. It will. Just...not today."





	Not Today, But Soon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnnUsual](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnUsual/gifts).



> Written in collaboration with the exceptional and extremely supportive AnnUsual. This is a series of snapshots that focus on a much larger AU universe that she is working on, so due credit to her. In hindsight, this would make a lot more sense if I wasn't such an impatient gremlin and had waited for her to finish, but...here we are.
> 
> Things you need to know for this universe:  
> Kol Mikaelson does not exist (yes, I know).  
> Klaus Mikaelson is the youngest Mikaelson sibling (Yes, yes I KNOW).  
> Esther is deceased.  
> Human AU. No vampire superpowers.  
> Please expect minor OOC.
> 
> Also: warnings for angst and implied child abuse, please heed the tags and only proceed if you are comfortable.

His heart drops into his stomach. He stares at the shattered remnants of a once prized crystal vase surrounding him, and it’s like all the air has been sucked out of the room. Oh, he’s in for it this time. He knew, he _knew_ Father’s study was off limits but he’d been playing hide and seek with Becca and now...he needs to get rid of this mess. His small fingers grabbed at a shard and a cry escapes him as it slices through his palm.

**“Boy!”**

The shard fell from his bleeding fingers. Involuntary tears welled in his eyes as Father loomed over him, furious and intimidating and wholly terrifying. And suddenly, he’s painfully aware that he’s going to get the worst hiding of his six year old life today.

“What in blazes happened in here?!” Mikael roared, striding over and grabbing his arm tight enough to bruise. Klaus winced and a strangled sob escaped, but he knew better than to struggle. Or talk back. Whatever was coming, he didn’t want to make it worse.

“What the hell did you do?” Mikael snarled, shaking him, shoving him back until his head knocked into the edge of the desk. “You useless, stupid, waste of _space!_ Do you have any idea how much...”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t m-mean to...F-father, please…”

“Don’t call me that.”

Mikael’s voice is low and cold. The abrupt change from furious to...this makes his very breath freeze.

“You,” Mikael hissed menacingly, “ _never_ call me that.”

He doesn’t know why, or how he knows...but in that moment, he just does.

Father _hates_ him.

“Do you hear me?” Mikael demanded.

He closes his eyes. The tears are falling in earnest now, but he’s too scared to do anything but wait for the oncoming explosion.

“I said,” Mikael snarled, grabbing at him again, “do you hear…”

“Father.”

Mikael released him at once. Klaus sucks in a deep breath as the pain ebbs and by the time his vision has cleared, his brother is already there. Standing in front of him, shielding him from their furious father. Sweet relief courses through him, and he can’t help but sag a little.

_Elijah._

His brother is here.

“Stop,” Elijah intones quietly. His voice is respectful enough — always is — but there’s an undercurrent of anger there that’s hard to miss. “Please. He’s _six.”_

Mikael’s mouth twisted. “He’s a piece of…”

“With all due respect, Sir,” Elijah broke in calmly. “This is beneath you.”

“Look at you,” Mikael sneered. A mocking laugh laces his voice, and it makes Klaus shrink a bit more. Elijah doesn’t budge though. He just tilts his head in challenge. “Fifteen years old and the man of the house, aren’t you?”

It’s a trap. Even _he_ knows that. One wrong word and it will be Elijah looking at a beating. He doesn’t want that, but he’s too scared to tell his big brother to leave. All he can do is hide behind him and cower and watch.

Elijah thankfully, doesn’t take up the gauntlet. But there’s uncommon disgust in his eyes as he faces off with their father. “As I said, Sir _,”_ he says, and the way he spits the _‘Sir’_ out leaves no ambiguity about his feelings of respect. He still stands tall, though. Like a soldier addressing his commanding officer. It’s a delicate dance of rebellion and compliance — more than Klaus’s young mind can comprehend. But Elijah’s been doing this all his life and he’s good at it. He always knows exactly what to do when the sky is falling down on them. “You don’t need to trouble yourself. I’ll deal with it. With him.”

The air in the room crackles with tense silence. Klaus held his breath, a silent prayer making its way to his lips. His fingers grip the back of Elijah’s shirt and he tries not to shiver.

Mercifully, Mikael retreats this time. “Fine,” he sneered. “Discipline the whelp yourself then. What do I care?”

Oh, thank all the _gods._

Fresh tears spill from his eyes as Elijah kneels in front of him. A calm hand brushes across his face, wiping him clean. Brown eyes, soft and affectionate, smile down at him. It’s like the sun peeking out from behind dark clouds. And suddenly, Mikael and his wrath and his hatred are white noise, fading to the back of his mind already. Because Elijah is here.

He’s safe.

“You hurt yourself,” Elijah murmured. He grips Klaus’s hand in careful fingers, studying the cut with a displeased frown.

“‘s not that bad,” he mumbled. It does hurt, but he doesn’t want to cry in front of Elijah anymore than he has to.

“Mmhm.” Elijah doesn’t argue or scold him. He just pushes his messy hair back and straightens his wrenched shirt. Mikael nearly tore it in half when he grabbed him. The bruises make Elijah’s eyes darken dangerously, but he doesn’t say anything. “Go find Becca,” he orders softly instead. “She’ll help fix you up, okay?”

He’s being sent away. And he knows why. Terror fills him at the thought of leaving Elijah alone with their father. Just because he’s fifteen, it doesn’t mean Mikael won’t hurt him.

“You can come,” he offers at once, voice trembling, his hands finding a new grip on his brother’s shirt. “Elijah, please. _Please…”_

“Niklaus. Now.”

His feeble protests fall on deaf ears and he’s herded out. Elijah gives him a kind smile before shutting the door firmly in his face.

He stands there, rooted to the spot.

He can’t move. Not just yet. He knows he should do as his brother asked, that he should find Becca, but he just...can’t. Not when Elijah is still in there.

Their voices rise. Mikael’s mostly, but Elijah’s calm tone is cracking too. He can hear them through the door, their voices faint but audible.

“...just a child…”

“...insolent little brat…”

“...be so hateful...not his fault…”

“...not mine...your mother...makes me sick...”

He cranes forward, trying to hear as much as he can, trying to understand...but they’re pacing now and it drowns their voices out. He can picture it. Mikael storming around like a furious beast and Elijah pushing back, resisting, blocking the door and keeping him contained…

Suddenly, there’s quiet. And then Elijah’s voice. Low and cold and more dangerous than he’s ever heard from his kind, stoic brother.

“He’s my mother’s son. And you will _never_ touch him again.”

The sound that follows is like a crack of thunder. He nearly jumps out of his skin. He knows what it is. He can almost see the bruise on Elijah’s face, red and angry and hateful.

The fear gets the better of him. He feels like a coward when he runs.

 

* * *

 

Becca patches him up with a sad smile. He tried to make excuses — stammering something about falling down and cutting his hand on a rock. He knows she knows, though. He’s never been good at lying to his big sister.

She doesn't push him. And he’s grateful for that. She just bandages him up, presses a kiss to his forehead and tells him to wait for Elijah. He badly wants to ask her to stay with him — just until Elijah comes — but he knows she’s got homework. Besides, it’s better if she stays out of sight too. He hates how she shrinks into herself whenever Mikael is around.

So, he waits alone in his room. Despite his frazzled nerves, he’s almost asleep when the door opens with a click and Elijah slips in.

Klaus sits up and takes a look at him. He looks tired, but composed. Sometimes, he wonders how Elijah does it — how he can look so put together even when he’s sporting his own set of bruises and a set of angry, red fingerprints across his face.

He shrinks in guilt, and he can’t quite look his brother in the eye when he settles down next to him.

“You should see the other guy.”

A small laugh escapes at the joke, intermingled with a sob. He swipes at his eyes angrily. He’s cried enough for one day, and he’s not even the one who’s hurt. Elijah took his licks for him again and it’s his fault and...and maybe Mikael’s right and…

“Niklaus.”

Gentle fingers tip his chin, forcing his gaze up. Elijah studies him carefully, cataloguing every tear and injury with an eagle eye.

“Are you alright?”

No. None of them were. He’s not. Becca’s not. Elijah is definitely not. He’s only six, but he knows they’re _not alright._

“I’m fine,” he lies anyway. “He didn’t do much this time.”

_You got there in time._

“My brave little brother,” Elijah murmurs fondly, carding a hand through his hair again. His fingers rest against Klaus’s head as he lies on his back with a tired sigh. Klaus curls up next to him and Elijah immediately draws an arm around him, pulling him closer. It’s like sinking into his favourite blanket and he wants to sigh in relief and contentment. He doesn't though. For now, it’s enough to bury his face into his brother’s side and just breathe in the feeling of safety while he can.

“You shouldn’t make him angry,” he mumbles after a spell of silence. _You shouldn’t stand up for me,_ he doesn’t dare say.

“Hm?” Elijah blinks as if coming back to himself. He turns his head to face Klaus, and a faint smile pulls at his lips. “He’s always angry. You know that.”

He does. And he thinks _he’s_ the reason why.

Elijah distracts him from the dark thought by tapping an admonishing finger at his temple. “All the more reason not to play in his study, don’t you think?” It’s a gentle scold but it still makes him want to curl up and cry.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’d rather you be careful.”

He nods jerkily, burrowing further into the solid presence next to him. “He hates me,” he whispers. Somehow, it’s easier to admit when he’s pressed up against Elijah’s side. “Why does he hate me?”

“Nik.” He almost flinches at the nickname. Elijah only calls him that when he has to say something particularly difficult. When he’s trying to soften the blow. “Brother. I need you to look at me.”

He tries, he really does. But he feels boneless and tired and in the end, Elijah has to gather him up like an infant. He does manage to prop him up, and it’s easier to stay upright with warm, strong hands grasping at his shoulders.

“I want you to promise me something,” Elijah tells him. He sounds serious and it compels him to listen. “Can you do that for me?”

He nods at once. He would do anything for Elijah. He’d take a beating for him too, if he wasn’t so small and useless.

“Promise me,” Elijah falters a bit and he has to visibly steel himself before rallying on. “Promise me that you’ll stay out of his way. That you...won’t be alone with him if you can help it.”

A lump of fear settles in his throat. He can feel the worry underlining his brother’s tone and he hears the words that Elijah hasn’t said out loud.

_You’re not safe with him._

The fear threatens to overwhelm him and he can feel it settle deep into his bones. But the warm grip on his shoulders grounds him, keeps him steady. Elijah is right here and he’s got him.

“It will be alright one day, brother,” he whispers, sounding sad and tired again. “It will. Just...not today.”

He believes that. As long as Elijah is here, he believes that.

“I need to discuss something with you,” Elijah says, as silence settles around them. His voice is low and soft, and it feels like they’re trading secrets. “Something important.” He waits for Klaus to look up at him and ruffles his hair reassuringly. “I’ll be leaving for college some day. Not today, but soon. In a few years.”

An icy hand grips his heart at the news. The very thought that Elijah might leave, might go away, might _leave him alone with Mikael…_

Apparently, Elijah catches on because his eyes go dark as night. He pulls Klaus so close he can barely breathe, threads a hand through his hair and presses a fierce kiss to his temple. “You’re coming with me,” he finishes resolutely. “I won’t...I wasn’t going to...that’s what I wanted to tell you. You’re coming with me, I promise.”

Go...with Elijah? Leave home? No more Mikael?

He can barely process it, and the words swim uselessly in his mind as Elijah talks about trust funds and coming of age and custody and other details he can’t begin to understand. He’s only starting to feel the first tendrils of relief when Elijah shakes him gently.

“It’s a lot, I know,” he says softly. “And I won’t lie, it’s not going to be easy. I wish you could have the childhood you deserve. I wish...I wish I was in a position to offer you choices, brother. I really do. But I’m not. Not yet. I’m afraid it’s not up for discussion.” He dips his head a little, catching Klaus’s wide eyes. “Do you understand? Please tell me you understand why I have to do this.”

He doesn’t. Not really. But he does understand that Elijah will take care of him. That he won’t leave him behind. That’s the important part. It’s all he’s ever wanted.

“I understand, brother.”

Elijah sighs in relief and settles back in the bed. “Good,” he murmurs. “That’s good. Now go to sleep. It’s...been a long day.”

His hands reach up to grab at Elijah’s shirt again. “Will you…”

“I’m right here, Nik. Just close your eyes.”

The lights dim and Elijah pulls a blanket over them. It’s safe and warm and his brother’s even breathing in the dark helps him settle. There’s still something, though. He can’t sleep just yet.

“Elijah.”

“Hm?”

“We can’t leave Becca. If...if we go, then we _all_ go.”

He knows that’s terribly unfair. Elijah can’t possibly make those promises. He’s barely grown himself and he’s got his own life to think about. It’s selfish and wrong and unfair. But they told each other _always and forever,_ and it still means the world to him. He thinks it does to Elijah too.

“We won’t.” Elijah’s voice is iron. “She’s coming too.”

That’s settled then. Elijah’s hand presses against his curls and pushes gently. He follow where his brother leads and ends up curled into his chest. For a moment, he just lies there, listening to that strong heartbeat, feeling gentle fingers thread into his hair. And he knows, this is what safety feels like. This is what home feels like. His eyes flutter shut and he finally lets sleep take him.

He’ll get home someday. Elijah will take him home. Not today. But soon.


End file.
